Page 13 of Johnathan

John turned, grabbing the bag off the table, and walked towards Katy, whose entire face was covered in pink frosting.

“So?” Grace asked as John caught back up with their group.

“What?”

“How didthatgo?”

“Jesus. What did Jackson tell you?”

“Hey, man. I didn’t say anything. You’re just pretty fuc?—”

“Jackson! Our son and niece are right here!”

“Sorry.” He cringed and started again. “You’re just prettyfreakingobvious. Did you ask her out?”

“No. I asked if she wanted to come back and hang out while we grilled. Actually, I asked if Sam wanted to come, too. Figured she’d be more comfortable if it was just like a friend’s hangout.”

“How the hell did you used to be the player in the family? Did having Katy just take away every bit of romantic sense you used to have?”

“No. Actually, yeah. I just feel so off balance when I’m around her. Did I mess up?”

“She probably thinks you were trying to hang out with Sam and just invited her along as a pity thing,” Grace said as she bounced Jack on her hip.

“What? No. I invited her first. And I tried to give her my number, but she already hadyoursand refused to take it.”

“Do you want me to talk to her? I can go make sure she knows you want her to come over.”

“I would rather put fire ants down my pants, Grace. But thanks for the offer.”

Five

Her scream lodged in her throat. Again. The nightmares just wouldn’t leave her alone. Abby sat up in her bed, running her fingers across the raised scar.

It was stinging. Always stinging. Nerve endings reconnecting following the trauma is what her doctor told her. But she wished they wouldn’t. She wished the spot would stay numb, and she’d never have to feel pain from it again.

Flinging her legs over the side of the bed, she groaned. Three hours’ worth of sleep, and it was useless to try for more. Abby walked to her dresser and pulled out her favorite pair of athletic pants. They were black, with reflective stripes down the side, and came with a matching sports bra that she grabbed at the same time. No one would see the cute top, of course, because she would be wearing a jacket that covered her neck, but it didn’t matter. She wanted to feel cute for herself.

Fully dressed five minutes later with her canister of pepper spray attached to the holster around her waist, Abby laced up her running sneakers, zipped her windbreaker up so it was hiding her scar, and grabbed her keys.

It wasn’t smart to be running at three in the morning. She could almost hear her brother’s furious voice yelling at her toget back inside where she’d besafe.Right.Safefrom a mad man who was already being held by the FBI at some site no one knew about. But notsafefrom her own memories.

The cool air and quietness of the street made her racing mind quiet. Marco wasn’t a threat anymore. It wasn’t some random person who got away. It wasn’t someone who was going to come back for her. The attack was a one off. She was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. It wasn’t going to happen again, and she wasn’t going to let it control her life.

Abby stood on the sidewalk outside her apartment for a moment, stretching her legs. Feeling ready to run the emotions out of her body, she took off.

The jolt of her feet hitting the pavement flooded her body with adrenaline. It was exactly what she needed. Her mind went blank. No more Marco. No more thinking about the fear that coursed through her as the blade pulled across her skin. No more feeling the sticky life force pouring out between John’s hands as she looked into his eyes for reassurance.

In an hour, she’d run the entire length of Main Street twice, circled through the park and around the lake. Abby was making her way around for another loop through town when the sound of an engine coming down the street grabbed her attention. She might be irresponsible for running outside at that time of night, but she wasn’t stupid. No headphones meant she should be able to hear any threat coming up behind her.

Was that what was in the car? A threat? The lights hit her from behind and her heart rate picked up. The tires slowed on the pavement beside her but she refused to look, and she refused to stop. When the vehicle finally passed, she let out a sigh of relief.

A blinker turned on as the SUV pulled over to the side of the road and parked. If she hadn’t seen the writing on the side as it passed, she would have been reaching for her mace. Instead, sheslowed to a walk, placing her arms above her head to open her lungs and draw in more oxygen.

The panic was there, pushing darkness into the edge of her vision.

John hopped down from the vehicle and stalked towards her.

“Jesus. I thought that was you. What are you doing, Abby?”

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